


A Little Something Like Sex

by Kantayra of Yore (Kantayra)



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: F/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-02
Updated: 2005-08-02
Packaged: 2017-10-19 03:07:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra%20of%20Yore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>August 4th, 2005 would always be branded into her mind as the day that Veronica Mars was tricked into losing her virginity to Logan Echolls in his guest bedroom. Veronica and Logan's first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Something Like Sex

**Author's Note:**

> I shall dub this ficlet 'PWP'. I shall not even dub it 'angsty PWP' or 'PWP that results in massive suicide'. Shocking, I know. Surprisingly light on the snarky banter for me, but hey, what can I say? It's Veronica and Logan's first time; give them some time to get used to each other before they work up to the snarky sex. :P

August 4th, 2005 would always be branded into her mind as the day that Veronica Mars was tricked into losing her virginity to Logan Echolls in his guest bedroom.

In a way, it was the ultimate betrayal, the last straw, and she gaped up at the ceiling in disbelief once he was sheathed fully inside of her, and she suddenly realized that she’d still been a virgin all along. It was so monumentally unfair that, for a moment, tears sprang to her eyes before she felt his lips against her cheeks, wiping the salt away. And that just made her more furious because Veronica Mars did _not_ cry, especially not now, not when she’d thought that the last bit of innocence that could bring forth tears had long since left her.

She felt completely and utterly lost in that moment. Because, even if she couldn’t remember it, she was supposed to have done this before. She’d always been convinced that something deep inside her would remember when this moment finally came. That she’d be immune to the looming, terrifying thought that this was The First Time. It was the one gift a night of Liquid X and forgotten moments with a boy who’d thought he was her brother was supposed to give her – certainty and confidence this time, and freedom from the blushing awkwardness of suddenly realizing now that Logan was inside her that she had _no clue_ whatsoever what she was doing.

“All right?” he whispered against her hair.

And she realized, to her horror, that she’d just frozen in his arms, gone completely limp with the surprise of it all. A pang of guilt went through her at that. In a way, this cruel trick of the universe had caused her to deceive him. She’d been eager for him, lured him in, thought she was ready, able to handle this, and now…

Now she just felt terrified and confused.

“I didn’t hurt you?” He sounded worried now.

She gulped and managed to shake her head once, twice. So maybe, at least physically, she’d gotten _something_ from her actual first time. She wondered sometimes whether it had hurt when her barrier had broken, whether she should be grateful that she didn’t remember. She’d thought that that would be the only thing that _did_ matter when she and Logan finally made love. But Veronica was fast realizing that the technical definition of ‘virgin’ was far from complete. And, in every way that really mattered, _this_ was the night when she would say she lost her virginity.

“Shh…” Logan’s voice was calm, soothing now. She felt his lips against her cheek, her hair, her throat. Familiar, gentle points of contact to try to reassure her that this wasn’t so different, after all.

In that moment, she was grateful to him and furious at him all at once. Because the sudden, irrational certainty that he had _lied_ to her filled her being. He’d asked her if she was sure, questioned again whether she was actually ready, but it _hadn’t been enough, dammit_. Somehow, despite how absolutely indescribable this experience was, he should have found _some_ way of warning her, of letting her know that it would be like _this_ and that nothing in the world could fully prepare her.

Logan fucking Echolls had finally beaten her completely. She was beneath him, surrounded by him, and completely and utterly vulnerable to him. She _needed_ him, and she wasn’t supposed to need anyone, not like this. The bastard had finally won their little battle, and she hadn’t even seen it coming, had never guessed that a little something like sex would be the final surrender. It was the first time she’d been defeated, the first time she’d needed…wanted…

“Don’t tell me I’ve finally rendered you speechless,” he teased against her throbbing pulse point.

And she couldn’t help herself then, because even with all the turmoil within her, it was so absurd. She let out a little giggle despite herself. “I’m overcome by your manly prowess.” She inflected just enough sarcasm into the words to disguise the truth behind them.

Of course, he had always seen through her act. She’d fooled them all this last year, except him. He’d never fallen for her tricks, never been distracted by her masks. She thought that was probably a big part of how they’d gotten to this point, naked and intimately intertwined on this bed.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet.” His expression was half evil grin, half shy smile, and it calmed her, relaxed her in a way she’d never thought possible.

She took a moment then to fully process him, the feel of him inside her, so deep and strong, the hard lines of his hips between her thighs, the toned muscles of his stomach pressed against hers. He was propping up his upper body with bent arms, and she could see the straining and flexing necessary to hold himself up like this. His body seemed like the most incredible thing she’d ever seen just then, because she’d had her fun with all the teen magazines, but he was so much more _real_ than all those pictures. He looked amazing. She almost couldn’t fully process that he was really with her.

He felt amazing, too. There was nothing to describe the feel of him inside her. Strange and uncomfortable, yes, but somehow wonderful as well. And the more she focused on it, the more the uncomfortable parts faded away, leaving her only with the pleasurable.

“Someone’s overconfident,” she taunted lightly.

He smirked down at her, one hand coming down to brush aside her bangs. “Overconfident? I think it’s now safe to say that I’m going to get laid tonight.”

He kissed away whatever reply she would have made, and she suddenly felt the desperate need to hold onto something because the world seemed to be tilting on its axis. She felt a deep pounding reverberating through her body and realized slowly, and with sudden clarity, that it was the beat of his heart, his breath in her mouth, as if he were living off of her body. There was nothing else in the world to hold onto, so she held onto him as they kissed, her fingers clutching first at the taut muscles of his forearms but then moving up to his back, pulling him closer, deeper.

“I’m going to start moving, okay?” His voice sounded raw and strained against her ear.

She merely nodded in numb disbelief, and then his hips were rocking into hers. And it was incredible, and it was intimidating all over again.

Veronica closed her eyes tight and tried to process just how impossibly _close_ he was. He was just so… _big_. And not just inside her, but all of him. He was overwhelming her. Big hands cupping her face, large body sliding against hers slowly as he eased her into a gentle rhythm. She’d never fully absorbed how much larger than her he really was, and she felt in that moment as though she could lose herself in him. And the strangest thing about that thought was that it wasn’t scary in the slightest; just then, she _wanted_ to be lost in him.

She picked up on his tempo, began moving with him instinctively, pushing him harder, faster, closer. Moving like this, so simple and yet so complex, was more _intimate_ than she ever could have described. As hypnotizing as the crest of the sea surf, he pulled her in, led her into ever deeper and darker waters…

They’d fooled around enough before that she hadn’t thought this would be any different. She’d thought it would be nothing more than the simple joining of bodies, of drawing pleasure from each other. But feeling him inside, stretching her, consuming her…

The problem was that all she’d learned of sex, she’d learned from Lilly. They’d talked about it more often than not – she blushing incessantly and Lilly grinning from ear to ear – and Veronica had learned that sex was fun, light, and easy. It was something to be indulged in on a whim, forgotten in a moment, and giggled about afterwards. And, to Lilly, that was quite possibly what sex was.

To Veronica, it was… _different_. And she understood with absolute clarity now that Logan was inside her, that this was it. The moment she’d been putting off for what seemed like forever. There was no turning back, no chance for maybes or compromises halfway. There was no room for façades, for masks, for lies and half-truths. In another moment, she was going to open her eyes and Logan was going to see absolutely _all_ of her. Because, knowingly or not, it was too late now and she didn’t know any way to be, other than to give herself to him entirely. The Veronica Mars who had hidden so cleverly behind sharp barbs and deflecting words was going to be bared and exposed, and some part of her wanted to trust him with all of herself more than anything in this world, but the part that had kept her strong through this last year of hell…

She took a deep breath, verged on the precipice. It took so little to really _trust_ someone, and yet so much. And this would be the first time in so very long…

It was frightening.

It was intimidating.

It was…exhilarating…

“Veronica…” His voice was soft and rough all at once, ragged with pleasure.

And she opened her eyes, saw the same deep vulnerability that she knew was in her own, and managed a shaky smile. He smiled back, and she could tell that he’d seen everything she was and found her beautiful. Which was good because she thought he was beautiful, too.

The pleasure now wasn’t from the joining of their bodies but from the very _closeness_ she’d feared not so long ago. So maybe Veronica Mars had been wrong not to trust him; there was a first time for everything. She watched this knowledge overwhelm him, although in a more visceral way, and as he collapsed into her arms in ecstasy, gave her the weight of his body and his very soul for the very first time, she whispered into his hair the only truth she knew:

“Logan…”


End file.
